


Is it enough?

by HeddersTheOwl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Sam Wilson, Sam Wilson-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23427766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeddersTheOwl/pseuds/HeddersTheOwl
Summary: Sam is not coping well with the stress of being a full time hero during a long running crisis, and gets a reminder that what he's doing is good.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Is it enough?

**Author's Note:**

> Projecting on Sam Wilson? In my fanfiction? It's more likely than you think!
> 
> TW: very brief mention of food as a coping mechanism, and Sam starts off with Anxious Unhelpful Thoughts but he gets past it by the end with some support

Sam was stressed. He knew he was. He could feel the tension gripping his shoulderblades, and his hands felt heavy. It felt like he hadn't slept well in weeks, only managing to grab a few hours between call outs, and whenever he could finally get home, he knew he wouldn't be able to get enough done to have a better day of it tomorrow. 

He ran over his To Do list in his head as he walked up to his front door, laiden with bags of his Falcon uniform that he kept just piling up next to the machine, pretending he's going to have the energy to wash it before tomorrow. The list ran as follows:

  * Find and destroy Dr Doom's heat ray
  * Protect everyone from said heat ray when I continue to fail at that task, idiot
  * Stop thinking like that, block that out, I am not responsible for Dr Doom's actions
  * I'm only responsible for my own actions and the safety of myself, and my team, and my family, and the local community, and all of America and sometimes the world...god fucking damn it.
  * Stop falling back into these unhealthy patterns
  * Do the damn laundry



Sam sighed heavily and pushed open the door. He dropped his bags and made a b-line to the kitchen to open the fridge and stare into it listlessly. He knew he should stop just eating all the chocolate as soon as he came in, his husband Steve deserved to have some too, he works just as hard. The task list loomed up from the fog in his mind, though, and Sam shoved a bar in his mouth before he started making decisions again. He slammed the fridge door and rested his head against the cool door, and raised a hand in greeting when he heard Steve come in, not looking up.

Steve leaned on the counter next to Sam, and Sam could feel his eyes on him. He didn't say anything, just waited patiently, until Sam couldn't not talk to him.

"Don't tell me to talk about it, I don't want to talk about anything. I'm okay - no, I will be okay - but I can't talk about it. There's too much."

"I won't ask you to talk about it. I know what it is. You're scared, and there's too much in your head right now, right?"

Sam nodded against the fridge. Steve had become far too good at reading Sam over their marriage, it was frankly rude. Steve put a hand on his back, and Sam turned into his arms, with an embrace that might hurt a normal person.

Steve rubbed gentle circles over his aching shoulders, and Sam could have cried from just that. They started to sway side to side, a metronome for deeper breathing.

"You are the best person I know, Sam. You can have a break, here. You are kind, and valuable, and I love you."

Sam shook his head into Steve's shoulder.

"How much value can I be if I'm so stressed all the time, Steve? I won't be able to think with all this in my head, but I can't stop. They need me, I have to help them."

He waited for Steve to say he was wrong, and he should stop working, and take a long sabbatical and leave the world to rot. Sam had been having versions of this conversation cycling in his head all week, and had responses ready for all of them.

"I know. They do need you, and you are going to help them. I believe in you, and you will get through this."

"I don't want to just get through this, I want to be happy. And I have to go back to it tomorrow, and it's not getting better, but I can't stop. I can't. Not until it's solved. I need to keep pushing at it."

"I know. I agree."

"You - what?"

Sam pulled back to look at him, surprised. He hadn't planned for that one.

"I agree. You are making a difference to people's lives, and I would never tell you not to do that. You couldn't stop helping people if you tried." 

He smiled, then, and pulled Sam's hands up between them to kiss his knuckles, then went on:

"You are doing amazing work, and saving countless lives. How many living, breathing human beings have you saved just today?"

Steve's steady, adoring gaze was more than Sam could ever ignore. He thought about it seriously - he'd rescued a family, the Cortezes, from the top floor of a burning building and got them set up at a friend's house; he'd stopped their scummy landlord from charging them for damages caused by the heat ray; and searched through most of DC for the Doom Lab, which was a total waste of time.

"Hmm, 5 I guess? One family? Not many. Maybe if you count their friends not having to worry about them being dead, a few more I guess. Not enough."

"Not enough? You helped 5 people away from disaster - and knowing you went above and beyond, is that right?" 

"Well....yeah I did."

"And you being there - risking your life - stopped any of the rest of the team having to cover that disaster, is that right?"

"...yes....and I did a thousand pages of paperwork, and checked over some hideout spots that we now won't have to check again, so I did do something."

"You are doing more than enough, Sam. There is no way you could be doing more. You know that."

"I do," Sam conceded, and then sighed. "I know that I do help people. I'm lucky to be able to say I help directly, but I wish I could be doing more. I wish I could be everywhere and save everyone. I wish what I can do doesn't make me feel like shit at times like this."

Steve gave him a healing kiss to the forehead, which helped clear some of his worry lines, and got a small smile out of Sam.

"It be like that sometimes." Steve said sagely, and Sam laughed. 

He felt the weight of worry lifting somewhat. It was still there of course, talking and sharing can't solve everything, but it he felt a renued strength, somehow, his tension eased.

"I do good work, don't I?"

"Yes, you do."

"And I'm getting somewhere with it, what I'm doing is important to people."

"It absolutely is."

"And this part, this part where I'm feeling so very, very stressed and I'm pushing against a brick wall, that's going to end at some point, and it will be behind me?"

"And then we will take a second honeymoon and I'll give you massages every day, as I thank the Lord that I get to spend time with such a wonderful, caring, man, yes."

Sam rolled his eyes but couldn't restrain his grin, and Steve held a hand to his own chest dramatically.

"Oh, now that's not fair. I'm adding handsome to that list now too, my gorgeous, clever, beautiful husband, how did I ever get so lucky?" Steve asked.

"You know, I ask myself the same question every day."

He pulled Steve down for a kiss, and rested their foreheads together, breathing with him, then paused at a certain smell, and sniffed Steve's shirt.

"Uh, Sam? Going werewolf again or something?"

"Is that fabric conditioner?" Sam said, ignoring Steve's teasing.

"Oh, yeah, I stuck the washing on, yours is in the dryer."

Sam's heart was overcome with love at that moment, and he jumped onto Steve, who caught him easily despite the surprise, staying upright and holding Sam's thighs as Sam kissed him all over the face.

"Let's get married again, I love you so much, best husband ever."

"Wow, what are you going to do if I say I did the washing up too?"

"I'll say carry me up to bed and you'll find out."

"If I put you in bed you are going to fall asleep."

"But I'll be very sexy about it."

Sam stretched in a pretend yawn to show off his arms, but it turned into a real yawn and he nuzzled tiredly into Steve's neck.

"Well I can't argue with that." Steve said decisively.

Sam was carried up the stairs with care and put on the bed. He even let Steve put him in his pyjamas for him and tuck him in without saying he'll do it himself. He smiled up at Steve as he got another kiss to the forehead from him before shutting his eyes.

He felt relaxed, and cared for, and special. He was allowed to feel this way. He had done enough. 

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> I just needed to write this fic today, I'm a support worker for adults w disabilities and the stress is getting to me atm! I know that what I am doing to help here is enough, it's important, and this stressful time in particular will pass. Big shout out to all fellow carers, medical staff ect who are also getting through this and still working, and to those staying home to protect us xx


End file.
